


Raise a glass

by EnlacingLines



Series: Do something [2]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Drinking, Established Relationship, Fluff, Friendship, Humor, M/M, background Dimileth - Freeform, background Dorogrid
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-16
Updated: 2020-03-16
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:42:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23177152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EnlacingLines/pseuds/EnlacingLines
Summary: “I can’t believe Dimitri says anything that earns that look,” he mutters.“I can’t believe they’re dating, I thought it would take them at least two years,” Ingrid says, but she has no volume control and Byleth looks over.She shrugs. “Two years still beats Felix and Sylvain,” she replies, and Ingrid laughs so hard she almost tips him off his chair.Felix, Byleth and Ingrid raise a glass (or six) to Friday night. The result ends up more confessional than Felix anticipated.Part two of a Modern AU Sylvix series
Relationships: Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Sylvain Jose Gautier
Series: Do something [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1555639
Comments: 36
Kudos: 231





	Raise a glass

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for the support of Part 1 of this series! 
> 
> This fic is mostly ridiculous, an attempt at humor, and fluff. Which I think, with the world being as it is right now, we all need. 
> 
> Valania, you amazing person, thank you for betaing! 
> 
> Hope you enjoy.

It’s odd, dating your best friend. Not as easy as Felix’s horrifically love struck brain had made it out to be. He forgets sometimes, after years of buried deep pining that he actually has the ability to initiate contact. That _he’s_ the person Sylvain is referring to when the word ‘boyfriend’ is mentioned; almost with a proud air that makes Felix want to kiss him or kill him, he isn’t sure. 

It’s also overwhelming in a way that he hadn’t expected—he’d known this was different, but had not anticipated exactly how much he feels; the quiet comfort, the bursts of delight that strike at his chest in unrelated moments, the nervous energy he has on a daily basis for this shift they’re living in. 

They’re taking it slowly. It’s a change, one that seems inevitable but also is not, so they are both moving at the pace they need. Their friends (all except Byleth and strangely Dedue) were firstly surprised but all so excited and supportive. Which is nice, he’ll admit, to have them all just as happy as he is. 

It’s been just over a month and he’s still falling in love, despite having already been there when this began. Not that he’s telling Sylvain any of this. Not yet. Maybe not ever—the idea of having to say those three words out loud has him feeling like he might be sick, so he’s definitely going to try to keep it at bay. 

Actions are louder than words, anyway. And Felix is trying in the regard, although it’s, again, not simple. None of this is, for feelings alone do not make relationships run smoothly, and this he’s determined to make last for as long as it can. But, he thinks, in moments when he says or does something that doesn’t quite hit the mark, that he’s not an easy person to love. 

Some moments though, are smoother than others. Like this second on a Sunday morning, where Felix has shown up at Sylvain’s apartment so they can go to the usual group brunch together, despite the fact it’s in the opposite direction. 

“We’re going to be late. Really late, if you don’t move now,” Felix whispers, and Sylvain hums before going back to kissing him for what’s probably the hundredth time. 

Honestly, Felix thinks brunch can go to hell. He’d like to just stay up against this wall with his boyfriend kissing him slowly, thoroughly, in that lazy way that seems to be their pattern now, all-consuming touches that make him feel both like a live-wire and as if he’s falling into softness, relaxed and unworried. 

But he doesn’t fancy dealing with the wrath of Ingrid if they skip out, so, reluctantly, they part, Felix having to fix his hair as they walk so it doesn’t look too obvious why they’re late. They’re only the last by a few minutes in the end, and take their seats with only a minimum, knowing glare from Ingrid. 

“I must say, you two look so happy together. It’s heartwarming,” Dimitri says and Felix rolls his eyes. 

“Shut up,” he says, just as Sylvain puts an arm around him and pulls him closer, which he does not enjoy, no matter how his traitorous body almost sighs at the contact. 

“Thanks. We _are_ the cutest couple, after all,” he says. 

Dimitri shakes his head. “With all due respect, you are incorrect,” he says, before bending over and pressing a kiss to Byleth’s cheek. She chokes a little on her water and Felix laughs, only to quiet when she stares at him over the rim of the glass. Her death glare is something to behold. 

“Ah, see, your girlfriend is cute and all, but my boyfriend—” Sylvain cuts off as Felix elbows him. 

“Think carefully where you’re going with this,” he hisses but Sylvain just winks at him. 

That’s probably the most annoying part of this—Sylvain is even less affected than ever by his threats when really, he should be more careful. 

There a thud and the table shakes, all of them snapping to where Ingrid has slammed her glass back on the table. She smiles, but it’s clearly strained. 

“Dedue and Ashe are cuter than all of us, let’s not pretend anything else,” she says. 

There’s an awkward flicker of eyes around the table, before Dimitri clears his throat. 

“Too true. Sylvain, what was that show you were talking about, the one with the duck playing the piano?” 

Felix automatically stops listening at that, as it’s best to just tune them out. As he does, his eyes flicker to Ingrid, the downturn of her mouth and the tiredness in her eyes. Long distance is hard, and Dorothea’s latest tour is across the world for a few months. It was unplanned, and a fantastic opportunity, but he knows Ingrid’s been looking forward to having her home. 

Their new found relationships all coincide with hers becoming difficult, and although he’s fairly sure the two of them are coping, it’s never fun having new romance shoved in your face. He swallows bitterly around the realisation, feeling guilty for the delayed reaction. 

Ingrid does lighten a little throughout the meal, and it’s as they’re leaving she speaks. 

“Is anyone free on Friday? Just a movie night or something, nothing big,” she says, looking a little embarrassed as she speaks. 

Sylvain sighs next to him. “I’d love to, but I’ve got another family hearing,” he says, and Felix immediately grabs his hand as Ingrid’s eyes widen. 

“Your father again,” she says. 

Sylvain shakes his head. “Miklan,” is all he says, and Dimitri and Ingrid stiffen, faces probably matching Felix’s. 

He feels his anger rise. Sylvain’s been trying not to think about it, and so they haven’t talked about the day much, but he has holiday, so he could take it off if Sylvain needs it. His boyfriend catches his eye and tips his head towards Ingrid. Felix frowns, unsure, but Sylvain smiles, small and encouraging and Felix sighs. 

“I’m free, I’ll come. Pick a good movie though,” he adds, as Ingrid’s taste varies from amazing to terrible. 

She looks almost relieved as she nods. “I’ll let you pick if you must,” she says, and he smiles back. 

“I’m afraid I have a lecture to attend that evening, with drinks afterwards. But I can pop by once it’s finished?” Dimitri offers, and Ingrid nods, although she still looks a little sad. 

“Oh I’m totally coming by as soon as I can. I’ll need booze though,” he says, and Felix again squeezes his hand. 

Ingrid laughs, “I can provide that,” she agrees, and then the rest of the group turn to Byleth. 

She blinks, obviously somewhat surprised. Felix wants to roll his eyes and tell her she’s part of the group, not just Dimitri’s girlfriend. In fact, if they break up, he’s losing Dimitri in a heartbeat and keeping Byleth, no question. 

“I’m free. Thank you,” she says, with a small bow of her head, and Ingrid looks happier than she has all day. 

“Great, I’ll see you on Friday,” she says. 

* * *

“I think it’s gonna take a while. It’s not looking good,” Sylvain says. Felix clutches the phone in one gloved hand, the weather having turned bitterly cold in the last few days. 

Honestly, Felix hates Sylvain’s family—has since they were children; but it’s more pronounced than ever with the tiredness and strain in his voice tonight. 

“I’m sorry,” Felix says, knowing it’s not enough, but he has no idea what is enough at this moment. Sylvain chuckles—a lightness which warms and relieves something in Felix. 

“Just hearing your voice helps. Thanks for answering. I might have to give… evidence at some point, but it’s not tonight, thank fuck. I can’t deal with that right now,” he says and Felix has to stop walking just to breathe for a minute. 

It’s bad that those things happened to Sylvain, and the fact that they still haunt him years later produces something raw and bitter inside him. Recounting and defending their truth is not something Felix ever wants him to have to do, but again he can’t stop it. He exhales. 

“Are you actually okay?” he says, knowing it comes out more of a demand than a question, but he hopes the sentiment reaches. 

Sylvain is quiet, and Felix starts walking again as he waits patiently. 

“I will be. I’m hoping to come by Ingrid’s later. Save a hug for me, will you?” he says, the usual cheer back, and even though they are miles apart, Felix’s face lights up with a blush and he folds himself over into the neck of his coat. 

“You’re an idiot,” he says, which means _yes_ in Felix and Sylvain’s warm laughter he receives tells him it’s understood. 

They say their goodbyes just as Felix reaches Ingrid’s door, and the warmth that greets him as he enters is a welcome relief from outside.

“6.30 on the dot, punctual as always,” Ingrid says as she moves out of the way to let him in. 

Byleth is already there, and he reaches into his bag and holds up the bottle in greeting. 

“I bring gin,” he declares and Ingrid grins. 

“I bring rum,” Byleth replies and Ingrid’s smile turns into laughter. 

“And I have mixers, wine and tequila. And whatever else is left from Sylvain’s birthday, if we’re really desperate,” she adds as Felix takes off his shoes, coat and gloves 

He wanders into the kitchen, places down the bottle on the counter, and turns to Ingrid. 

“How are you?” he asks stiffly. Asking about well-being is hard, even if it’s with someone he’s known all his life. 

She sighs, all pretense of cheerfulness removed. “It’s not a great month. Job hunting isn’t going well, my scheme ends soon, and Dorothea’s so far away…” she trails off and Felix moves to put an arm around her shoulders as she grips him back fiercely. 

They stay for a moment before parting, and Ingrid looks towards the bottle of gin he’s placed on the counter. 

“I have ginger beer,” she says, and Felix grins, as she turns and grabs three glasses. He raises his eyebrows at the generous measure of spirit she pours, but takes the glass anyway. 

“Starting hard?” he comments as he sips and grimaces a little. 

“We’ll order pizza in a few, I don’t plan on drinking that much. I do need actually want to have a Saturday,” she says and takes the other glass into the room, handing it to Byleth who takes it with a smile. 

“Cheers,” she calls, and they all reply, clinking glasses together gently. 

**_7:15 pm_ **

“I don’t want pizza, I hate pizza,” Felix says, finishing the last of his drink and holding out the glass towards Byleth, who is just finished adding gin to her own. 

She dutifully pours it, only dripping a bit down the side, and Felix wipes it away before Ingrid sees. 

“Since when?” Ingrid says, kicking at him. He kicks her back. 

“I don’t know, I just hate it,” he says, grabbing the last of the ginger beer and sharing it between him and Byleth. He grimaces when he takes a sip, it’s pretty much a glass of gin. 

Ingrid turns to Byleth who makes a face at her glass and too. “I eat anything,” she says and Ingrid sighs. 

“Fine, Thai food is it then,” she grumbles and Felix toasts her. 

“Add extra chilies,” he reminds her. 

“To what?” she asks and Felix groans.

“My food,” he says slowly, because seriously, what else would you add chili to?

“But we haven’t ordered yet… Felix, how many have you had?” she says, peering at him from over her laptop. 

“You should catch up,” Byleth answers for him, pushing the gin towards Ingrid. 

She rolls her eyes and gets up, coming back a moment later with a bottle of coke. Felix grimaces as she pours her drink. Even watching it makes his teeth ache. Even more so when Byleth adds some to hers despite the fact she put ginger beer in it. 

He takes a swig of his drink. Gags. Okay yeah, maybe there isn’t really any ginger beer in this. 

Byleth’s phone chirps, and she takes a look as she sits back in her chair, glass to her lips. She smiles, eyes lighting up more as she reads. Felix makes a gagging sound, and next to him Ingrid snorts. He turns to her. 

“I can’t believe Dimitri says anything that earns that look,” he mutters. 

“I can’t believe they’re dating, I thought it would take them at least two years,” Ingrid says, but she has no volume control and Byleth looks over. 

She shrugs. “Two years still beats Felix and Sylvain,” she replies, and Ingrid laughs so hard she almost tips him off his chair. 

Ingrid’s own phone beeps and she picks it up quickly, her own face lighting up then falling once again. 

“Urg, no. No sadness,” Felix says, batting at her hand and she sighs. 

“I know, Dorothea just sent me a selfie and I miss her. It’s stupid,” she says, then before Felix can do anything she picks up her almost full glass and downs it in less than a second. 

Byleth’s mouth falls open. Felix gulps. So it’s one of _those_ nights. 

“Let’s order our food,” Byleth says, taking the laptop carefully. Felix nods before taking a deep gulp of his drink. 

He starts coughing so hard that Ingrid has to thump him on the back painfully. He really needs to remember it’s basically pure gin. 

**_7:50 pm_ **

“But I NEED more riding boots!” Ingrid yells. 

Felix groans from the floor. Why she’s shouting when he's… really close is beyond him. 

“You have so many riding boots. All black, all working. Why do you need more?” he asks.

“Because these are on sale, and cheap. Cheapish. It’s a good deal. I’m sad, I want boots,” she finishes and well, that’s logic enough. Felix waves a hand and sits up, room spinning a little as he does. 

“Okay, but then can we order food? We need food,” he says, because now he’s drinking rum and he doesn’t actually like rum so that’s a bad decision. 

“I want boots,” Byleth says, voice sort of sleepy. Felix blinks at her, willing her into focus with his mind. 

“What kind?” Ingrid says. Byleth gestures to the door where her shoes are. 

“Those but… again,” she says, and Felix decides if he has to deal with these two, he needs a better drink. 

He staggers up, wandering to the kitchen as the two start pouring over boots and he finds himself digging around Ingrid’s cabinet. 

“Hey Felix, I have chips! Can you bring them? And take whatever you want to drink,” she yells. 

He grudgingly goes on a hunt for chips, finds two kinds of Doritos and then decides he probably needs water. After he’s downed a glass and found a half finished bottle of vodka that’s god knows how old, an unopened tonic water he thinks Ingrid doesn’t know she has, and manages to make himself a better drink, he realises the others have been silent for a while. 

He returns back cautiously, and as he does, he finds them whispering, heads close together, staring at the screen. He stalks over and dumps the chips on the table, making them both jump. 

“Felix! Okay, you have to get these boots,” Ingrid says, sitting up and grinning. 

“What?” he says, completely caught off guard by the statement. 

Byleth beckons him over and reluctantly, he walks to stand behind them both, leaning over the sofa to look at the screen. 

“What the fuck?” he says, trying to make sense of what he’s seeing. 

“They are perfect,” Ingrid marvels, and Felix pushes her out of the way so he can make sure the drink isn’t affecting his vision. At least, not too much. 

“Where… do they stop?” he says. Byleth laughs a little while Ingrid turns to face him, handing over her laptop. 

“They’re thigh highs. You’d pull them off so well, and you’d probably kill Sylvain with them,” she says gleefully, which is sort of weird. 

“Since when do you know anything about fashion?” he asks. 

“I don’t. I _do_ know boots, though,” she says as if riding boots translates into all boots all of a sudden. 

“And why would they kill Sylvain?” he asks, remembering her second statement. 

Byleth and Ingrid both look at him with mirroring blank faces. Felix glares back, because what would Sylvain care about long boots—

_Oh_. 

He goes bright red and curses, turning away and grabbing his drink. As he does, both of them make cooing noises at him. 

“Shut up,” he hisses. 

“I’m buying them,” Byleth announces, and Ingrid stares as she apparently starts going through the order process. 

“What? No—stop, what—” 

“Done. Oh, I also ordered dinner too,” she says, and Ingrid cheers about food while Felix stares in horror at these people he, for some reason, calls friends. 

**_8:40 pm_ **

Dorothea is honestly an amazing singer, and really Felix doesn’t mind listening to her. He does mind that while they are listening, Ingrid is crying on his shoulder, while he and Byleth exchange helpless glances. Neither of them, it seems, are particularly good with crying people. 

“S-she’s just s-s-so pretty,” Ingrid manages as the song ends. Felix slams his hand on pause so fast he actually manages to hurt it. 

He glares at it. Traitorous hand, hurting like that. 

“She is very pretty and talented,” Byleth says, slowly as if she’s remembering how to speak properly. Or not wanting to start Ingrid sobbing again, it’s hard to tell. 

“I love girls,” Ingrid adds and Felix rolls his eyes before taking away the laptop. He almost drops it on the floor, flails to catch it and ends up sliding onto the floor with it. So he just stays there, before deciding he may as well lie down since he’s close. 

“Me too,” Byleth says with a sigh. 

“Felix had the cutest girlfriend in college,” Ingrid says and Felix nods. Then realises his head is mashed into the carpet, then turns over so they can see him. It takes him a minute to realise they look weird as he’s seeing them from upside down. 

“Bernadetta was cute,” he manages. 

“So cute I’m less upset that my bi realisation came from Felix’s girlfriend. _Felix_ , of all people,” she grumbles, picking up her glass. 

“Hey, what—” Felix says indignantly, sitting up and forgetting he’s drunk. The world tilts dangerously and he has to stabilise himself by gripping the coffee table. 

“My ex was so pretty. And dangerous. I like a girl who could probably kill you,” Byleth adds. Felix stares at her in confusion, while Ingrid nods sagely. 

“I get that. Although you sound like Sylvain,” she adds and they both turn to look at him. 

Felix grins. “I could definitely kill him,” he says and Byleth shakes her head. 

“I don’t think you’re meant to sound happy about it,” she says, but it’s Ingrid he’s focusing on, who is staring at him strangely. It never means anything good when Ingrid stares at you. 

“I am mad at you,” she declares suddenly, and Byleth looks up, eyes wide. 

Felix groans. “What did I do this time?” he says, taking up his glass and preparing himself with a gulp. Actually, he’s not sure it’s his glass, or what he’s just drunk, but oh well. 

“I didn’t even _know_ you liked Sylvain, let alone that you’d…” she trails off and gulps, looking away. Felix’s eyes widen and he staggers to his feet but he’s not in time to stop the beginning of tears. 

“We’re best friends, and you didn’t tell me,” she says, voice small and eyes shining, and god Felix is so weak to people crying but he doesn't know what to do. He can feel himself panicking a little as he tries to reply. 

“We are! We’re best… listen, _I_ didn’t even know I loved the idiot until he set himself on fire. What the fuck is wrong with me?” he says, glancing upwards as if the ceiling can explain his life to him. 

He only looks down when there’s a weird squeaking noise, and turns to see Byleth leaning forward, eyes wide, and Ingrid with a hand clamped over her mouth. She removes it slowly as their eyes meet. 

“You… love him?” she asks, voice awed. 

_Oh shit._

“Oh shit,” he says, and Ingrid screams, jumping to her feet, Byleth also rising and doing that soft smiling thing she does when she’s happy. 

Felix turns around and folds his arms, feeling the weight of the… several drinks he’s had in the last few hours dropping on him like a stone. He wants to go home. He wants to stop having emotional conversations with his friends because he’s so bad at them and… he also might explode from the feeling which tries to rise, unbidden when given a little leeway. Like right now, when he’s just admitted the words which he’d been trying so very hard to keep under-wraps. 

So he inhales, turns around and sees both of them have been creeping up behind him in a sort of weird game of hide and seek. 

“Yes, I love him. No, I’m not saying it again. There, now you know something no one else does, best friend,” he says to Ingrid, words blabbering in a way that makes him want to hide under the table. 

“You haven’t told him?” Ingrid asks, and Felix actually drops to the floor before he realises he can’t get to the table because Byleth is standing in front of it. So he sort of just… sits there. The other two also scramble down, and he sighs. 

“No, it’s been… 6 and a half weeks. He’ll run back to the mountains,” he says.

Byleth gives him a questioning look. “He’s from the north,” Felix explains.

“I don’t think he would, but you should do your thing. At your own time. And when you want. When it feels right. Makes sense. Timing is key,” Byleth rambles, but she’s onto something and agreeing with him, so he nods with every sentence. 

Ingrid doesn’t actually reply but she does throw her arms around him. He groans, and falls towards her, but she laughs. 

“He’s so lucky. You are both so lucky. And he’s not going to run away, he’s head over feet for you,” she says, and Felix thinks that’s wrong but he can’t remember the right phrase. 

“But never keep secrets from me again,” Ingrid threatens. 

Felix nods swiftly for a threat from Ingrid is a threat indeed, and just deals with the hug he’s being subjected to. That is, until the doorbell rings and Ingrid screams about food, and lets him fall, sprawling onto the floor. 

**_9:15 pm_ **

Felix is honestly trying to eat, he is. The food is nice, but he’s mid yelling about Sylvain, and that is more important. 

“And then they both fall out of the window,” he says. Ingrid drops her head into her hands as Byleth looks up, enraptured. 

“How did they not die?” she asks, and Felix stabs his fork at her. 

“Because it was about this high from the ground. And they are too stupid to die,” he says. Ingrid may no longer be breathing, she’s so red in the face. 

“Why are Sylvain and Dimitri so stupid when they’re together? Is it always like this?” she says, and Felix nods. 

“Always. I hate them,” he says, and takes a mouthful of now very cold food, swallows with a grimace and chases it down with vodka. Better. 

“Sylvain is so smart. Stupid smart. And also stupid. It’s really annoying. Dimitri’s just… urg,” he says, and Byleth tips her head. 

“There’s a thing there,” she says, and Felix shakes his head. 

“Not now,” he says, because there are several cans of worms he’ll eventually have to open but not while he sits drunk on Ingrid’s floor. Ingrid however, turns and pats Byleth’s leg. 

“Dimitri went through a tough time, and they didn’t speak for a while. They weren’t the best years in our group. But it’s a lot better now. Including Dimitri’s hair,” she says, and Felix starts laughing uncontrollably because that’s worth remembering. 

“Do you have pictures?” Byleth says seriously, and Ingrid jumps up, falling almost into the wall as she runs, both Felix and Byleth yelling in fear. She comes back a few seconds later with—

“Oh god, not the box!” He groans and she nods seriously. 

“Yes, the box. The box of our precious childhood memories. I don’t actually know what half of this is but there are definitely pictures,” she says and gives the box to Byleth who opens it carefully. 

The two scramble over it, and while they chat, Felix staggers up and grabs his phone from his coat pocket. It takes him two tries to unlock it, and he blinks at the screen. There’s a missed call from Sylvain along with a message, which makes his heart hammer. Did something happen? Should he call back? 

“Ah ha!” 

He looks up, and pockets his phone before going back over, awaiting Byleth’s reaction as Ingrid holds up the photo. There’s a second, and she blinks, just looking at the image. Then, without speaking at all, she blushes, right up to her hair. Ingrid gapes. 

“Marry him,” Felix demands. She splutters, blushing harder and glaring at him. 

“You’re going first,” she answers and Felix gapes as Ingrid looks between them. 

“Wow, you’re both so far gone. Huh, Felix. I take it you won’t be a Gautier—”

“Fuck no,” he growls, thinking back to the message in his pocket. 

“But you don’t exactly like your own family—” 

“Urg,” he says. Can of worms number one, he is sticking a tight lid on.

“So what name do you take?” Ingrid finished and Felix collapses on the sofa next to her. 

“I don’t know. Why are we talking about an imaginary wedding? It’s not happening. What ever Sylvain wants?” he says, arm gesturing vaguely at nothing, his words slurred and slightly wrong. 

Ingrid makes a strangled noise next to him and he turns his head, glaring as Byleth ignores them and keeps looking through the box of things Ingrid insists on keeping. 

It’s nice though, he thinks, that she does. Not that he’d say, but all of his earliest memories contain these three people, and all their lives have revolved around one another. Through the time when Glenn was sick, when Sylvain broke ties with his family, when Ingrid’s father lost his job and their house, to when Dimitri’s mental health suffered. They’ve all been there. It’s not been easy, not without love lost, but somehow, they are still here. 

And still changing. Still growing. Getting better and hopefully now, staying better. They all deserve it, he thinks. His friends. Better than his family, better than anything.

His eyes mist. God, he hates that he’s such a clingy drunk. He wishes Sylvain were here. 

“What is this?” Byleth suddenly says, picking up an old folded piece of paper. 

Something about this spikes alarm through Felix’s mind but he doesn’t actually know what it is, so he shrugs as Ingrid peers at it curiously. There’s obviously writing on it, and it’s big, in blue letters which probably means one of them wrote it as a kid. 

“Your hair is pretty like a flower. You smell nice. I am sorry I hit you, you should have moved—”

The sudden realisation of exactly what this is has Felix up and launching across the room towards her. But Byleth, for a drunk person, has surprisingly good reflexes and manages to dodge, then shoots up to the otherside of the sofa before he can right himself. 

“I like your face, it’s pretty as well. Love, Felix,” she finishes and her smile is pure evil as she holds the letter up high, standing up on the sofa.

“Aww, Felix did you write Sylvain a love note when we were kids?” Ingrid asks, stumbling to her feet and coming to the otherside of the chair. 

Felix inhales, and looks to Byleth. He shakes his head, begging her with his eyes; but he knows, really, he is doomed. 

“It’s not for Sylvain. And not for you either,” she says, looking down at Ingrid in absolute triumph. The expression on her face is without description, and he knows he’s watching his whole world shatter with the bribery material she now has. Ingrid’s mouth falls open, then she begins to shake with laughter, and Felix has no choice: they must both perish. 

Felix is about to launch himself into Byleth when all three are stalled by a knock at the door. They exchange looks. 

“Did we order more food?” Ingrid asks hopefully. 

Felix honestly couldn’t say yes or no to that seeing as he doesn’t remember when they ordered his original food, so Ingrid walks carefully over to the door, feigning some level of sobriety. 

Felix moves closer to Byleth, who tenses, as once Ingrid returns he’s getting that letter, if it’s the last thing he ever does. 

“Dimitri! We were just talking about you!” 

Felix chokes and Byleth, once again displaying remarkable grace for a person who forgot her own name half an hour ago, jumps off the chair, out of Felix’s grasp and moves towards the door. 

“Oh? Well, that is a surprise. Hi, my beloved,” he says, and Byleth moves forward to fold him into a hug. 

“Are you just gonna leave me in the cold? Move, have your hugs somewhere else.” 

Felix’s head snaps up at the voice, and Dimitri laughs, tugging Byleth out of the way as Sylvain walks through the door. As he does, he smiles and catches sight of Felix, where his grin spreads and for one absurd moment. Felix wants to run and leap into his arms. 

He doesn’t actually know what to do with that urge, so he freezes. Sylvain gives him an odd look as he moves to meet him. 

“Are you okay? Wow, how much have you drunk? You guys have been having a party, I’m sad I missed it,” Sylvain says with a laugh. 

Felix’s brain just has about enough capacity to cling onto ‘sad’ and ‘Sylvain’ so as his boyfriend closes in, he just drops his head into his chest. Hard. Too hard—it actually sort of hurts and Sylvain huffs out a breath before his arms close around him. 

“Alright, not okay. Do you want me to take you home?” he says, and his voice is much closer, arms tight and Felix sighs because this is so much better. If the world would be kind enough to stop spinning behind his eyelids, it would be perfect. 

He shakes his head against Sylvain, who chuckles, his chest vibrating with it. It makes Felix want to sink into the comfort and warmth, burrow in deep, and never come out. He startles as a kiss is pressed to his hair, unexpected affection making his face heat, although no one in this moment can see it. 

“Did you know your hair is pretty like a flower?” Byleth says, loudly in Felix’s mind and he immediately whips out of Sylvain’s grasp and stares towards her. 

She’s looking back at him with an air of a challenge, even though Dimitri looks down at her in confusion, arm around her waist and no space between. 

“Why does that sound familiar?” he asks. Felix hisses, realising there is yet another person who could potentially know and must therefore pay the price. He moves to dive over to them, but before he can even go, arms catch him from behind and pull him backwards. 

“No no no, you’re gonna end up tripping and knocking yourself out on the coffee table,” Sylvain says, and Felix realises he’s going completely limp at being held like this. He feels like he should probably do something about that but he can’t seem to work out what. 

Dimitri looks at Sylvain. “Hang on, didn’t you do that?” 

“I did, and still managed to carry on after I woke up. A good night. Anyway, I don’t want that to happen to my boyfriend, so.” And with that he hoists Felix up, who struggles for a moment at the slant of reality until Sylvain has him in his arms. Just… holding him, in the air for no reason whatsoever. 

Felix just looks at him. Looks at his boyfriend with his fluffy, bright hair, and the biceps he can’t see through his coat but are most definitely working with the whole carrying him thing; the way his eyes crinkle at the edges, small marks of happiness Felix suddenly yearns to trace. 

He dips forward, his forehead dropping against Sylvain’s, and just rests there. Close and safe, calm and wanted. 

“My god, you two are disgustingly adorable. Sylvain, sit down, I don’t trust you not to drop him,” Ingrid says with a laugh and Sylvain pulls back to wink at Felix then strides over the the soft and sits down heavily, Felix on his lap. 

“Do you want a drink, Sylvain? There appears to be… a bit of rum and some wine. I am actually quite worried, you have all consumed a lot of alcohol,” he says. 

Felix ignores him, and decides to just bury his head in Sylvain’s neck, who asks for wine. Felix belated realises he’s not actually said anything to Sylvain since he’s arrived and pulls back to look at him. 

“Are you… did it go okay?” he says, stumbling over the words, for nothing seems like the correct phrasing. 

Sylvain sighs heavily, hand coming up to rub across Felix’s cheek. “It went, and now I’m here. That’s enough for now,” he says, and Felix makes a noise of protest, trying to sit up when Sylvain shakes his head. 

“I don’t want to think about it right now. I just want to be here, with you and our friends,” he says, and Felix wants to argue, but also understands. Sylvain is so very good at not talking and pretending it’s all fine. Felix can only be here and wait and be there when he needs it. So he just sighs and flops back, world still a little spiny. 

“I can’t believe how cuddly you are when you’re drunk. I don’t think you’ve clung to me this way since you were six and Dimitri broke your favourite train,” Sylvain says. 

Byleth gasps across from him (how did she get there?) and wacks Dimitri on the arm. Hard, for he winces and looks at her in both confusion and sadness. 

“You broke Felix’s train,” she says, and Dimitri glances between them all. 

“It was seventeen years ago and an accident,” he protests, looking a little alarmed. Felix grins, before tucking himself back into Sylvain’s shoulder, inhaling his scent. 

“I’m glad you’re here,” he whispers, and Sylvain obviously hears—he coaxes Felix’s chin upwards to look at him. 

“I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else,” he says quietly, and it’s honest; that tone of voice Sylvain uses more and more in his presence when he lets his guard down. 

So Felix surges up, kisses Sylvain and almost misses, but he’s there to catch him, ensure they get to where they need to be. Felix pours what he can into the kiss; his worry, his happiness, his love that he can’t quite say yet. And Sylvain sighs beneath him, puts a warm hand on his neck and responds in kind—at least, that’s what Felix hopes. 

It’s a good kiss. A perfect kiss. Made almost better when Ingrid tries to throw chips at them, misses and gets them all in Dimitri’s hair. 

Sylvain is right, Felix thinks as they part. Sylvain almost collapses with laughter into Felix’s neck, pulling him closer as he does. Byleth tries to pick crumbs out of her boyfriend’s hair but seems to be making it worse. Ingrid sips on her drink, looking pleased with herself. 

He too, wouldn’t want to be anywhere else. 

**Author's Note:**

> Part 3 is in progress! But in the meantime, come find me on [Twitter](http://www.twitter.com/EnlacingL/)


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